


Broken Cards

by Ninety_Six_Thousand



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Ace character, Acephobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MY POOR CHILD, Uhm, Vv distressed John, ace John Laurens, worried Alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:45:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9411914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninety_Six_Thousand/pseuds/Ninety_Six_Thousand
Summary: Alex knew John Laurens. He knew the crease of his neck, the birthmark on his leg, every freckle on his body. And this. This wasn't John. Sure, it looked like John, but it was more like everything inside of him had been wiped out and left unreplaced.





	

Alex knew John Laurens. He knew the crease of his neck, the birthmark on his leg, every freckle on his body. And this. This wasn't John. Sure, it looked like John, but it was more like everything inside of him had been wiped out and left unreplaced.

His eyes were still the same captivating whiskey eyes as always, but now devoid of any feeling but fear. His lips were the same full lips as always, but they never turned up in a smile anymore. He wasn't John Laurens.

Alex can't really say that he's surprised by this development, however. It's to be expected when someone goes through what John did.

He's ripped away from his mournful inner monologue by a light tap on his shoulder. He quickly spun around, wincing at the flinch that caused.

"Can I sit on the couch?" John asked. Alex's heart sank even more at that. It used to be the type of thing he would mockingly say when Alex was acting like a brat. Now, there was no hint of a joke or tease on his lips, just sincere indifference as though he didn't really care whether or not he could but decided to ask anyway.

"Of course, John. You live here," he said, trying for a reassuring tone that probably came out closer to matter-of-factly.

John sat on the couch as close to Alex as he comfortably could, and Alex's heart shattered. John, precious and lost and broken John, was still trying to reassure Alex, even when he was the one in need of reassurance.

Alex laid a comforting hand on his thigh, before John's jump reminded him that it wasn't so comforting anymore. He quickly moved it off, reveling at the short amount of time he was allowed to feel the warmth of John's leg at his fingertips. How such trivial things meant the world to him now.

Sighing, Alex turned on the TV to some baking show. John had always liked those, and, though he wasn't sure it was true, Alex liked to believe that enough of John had survived to still enjoy is favorite show.

He turned the volume down (John hated loud noises anymore) and walked to the kitchen to prepare dinner. John used to be the cook, seeing as how Alex had one time managed to set the toaster on fire, but he didn't really have the motivation to do such things anymore.

The thought that John may never want to do things he had once loved almost sent Alex into tears. That's a normal feeling most days now. Hearing a shuffling behind him, Alex turned slowly around and was met by the sight of John's too thin body, illuminated by the light streaming in from the window, cutting up vegetables.

"John? What are you doing, Love?"

John turned, biting his lip to keep from fleeing, and said matter-of-factly, "Helping with dinner. Were it up to you, we would be eating burnt water." His eyes danced with something that wanted to be amusement but fell devastatingly short.

Alex chuckled, spinning back around. "Just be careful with the knife."

That was a good day.

Those got fewer and further between every day. Soon, it became easier to stop counting them.

Washington gave him and John as much time off as they needed which was good because it became impossible to leave John home alone.

It was a Thursday and Alex was doing laundry when he heard it. Dropping the armful clothes he had, Alex rushed to guest room which John had been using ever since he became uncomfortable with sharing a bed. John was deadly pale, frozen in terror and staring at a point on the wall.

"He's here. Help me he's here." He said.

Alex, confused and scared, asked, "Who? John, who's here?"

" _Him_."

And in that one word, Alex knew. He was absolutely certain. And, given the chance, he would hunt the batstard down and kill him for turning his John, his brave and strong and hopeful John, into this.

He still remembered every horrific and grizzly detail of that night. The call that John was in the hospital. He had feared the worst, cursing himself for not going to check on John once the clock had screamed at him to do so.

Despite his thoughts, however, it turned out to be something he couldn't even imagine. John had explained it in even tones. Had explained that he had stepped away from his drink for one minute, but once he got back, everything had changed.

He hadn't known at first, the beverage hadn't tasted any different, but soon a stranger came to sit next to him. No, that's not entirely true. He had danced with him.

Smiling, the not stranger took a sip of his drink. "You here with anyone?" John, having drunken more than he thought apparently, hadn't been able to coherently convey that he had a boyfriend, he just wasn't here, instead just shaking his no.

"Good." Before John had had a chance to comprehend that, he was being dragged across the dance floor and toward the door. The man apologized to multiple people for his "drunk boyfriend." That's when he realized that he had only had one drink. _Oh my god, he drugged me. What do I do? How did I not notice?_ He thought.

Soon he was being pulled through the parking lot by a complete stranger, dance aside. The man pushed him into the back of a van, spreading his legs uncomfortably wide.

Alex hadn't made him explain any further. He had been afraid this would happen. John had come out as ace just a little while before and there were too many people who thought they could "fix" him through violent and unnecessary means.

The police had showed up an hour later after someone had called. They found John unconscious and naked laying in the middle of the parking lot.

That was the worst night of Alex's life.

Coming back to the present, Alex looked at the wall. Nothing was there. "John, Love, why don't we go to the living room?"

John looked at him accusingly. "I'm not crazy. He's here!"

Alex knew he would have to handle this with care. "I know. I'm going to call the cops, okay?"

John was still defensive, but nodded anyway, walking into the living room.

Alex did call the cops. As they searched the house, he wasn't sure whether he wanted them to find someone or not. If they did, that meant that he was really here, but if they didn't... He didn't want to think about that.

The police didn't find anything. They searched the entire house but didn't find a single thing. Alex ushered them out with a promise to call them back if anything else happened.

He turned to see John, numb and shocked. "I'm crazy."

"John, you're not crazy. You're just a little sick right now." John nodded but still didn't look convinced.

After that day, John had had a few more episodes where he would swear that he was here. Watching him. Each one got worse until at one point, John punched him.

Alex decided he couldn't do this alone anymore. The next morning, before John got up, he drove to work.

It was odd, setting foot in a place he hadn't seen for months. He figured that described most places that weren't his home.

Washington greeted him with a smile and handshake. "Nice to have you back, Son."

Alex was sure that he looked exhausted. "Hey, George. I want to talk to you. About John."

Washington's face went white. "I see."

Once they were in his office, Alex let go. He told Washington everything that had happened, everything that John had become. He's not sure how long he'd been talking when Washington stopped him.

"I think he should see a therapist." Alex's jaw clenched along with his heart.

"He's not crazy."

"I know. But I think it would be good for him." Alex was about to fight back before he deflated.

"You really think so?"

Washington nodded and Alex sighed. He would do anything if it meant John might get better.

The first appointment was on Tuesday. John went in, if somewhat reluctantly. When he came out, though, his eyes had something they hadn't had for a while. Life.

The doctor gave him about a thousand prescriptions, but John even went as far to hold his hand now, and it would only get better.

So, yeah. It was worth it.

 


End file.
